


The Reception

by Sarek and Amanda Archive Maintainer (Selek)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, Terre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 10:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selek/pseuds/Sarek%20and%20Amanda%20Archive%20Maintainer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarek and Amanda find some time alone at a diplomatic reception.</p><p>Written by Terre.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reception

Title: The Reception  
Author: Terre  
Email: [tguidry1976@yahoo.com](mailto:tguidry1976@yahoo.com)  
Series: TOS  
Rating: NC-17  
Paring: Sarek and Amanda  
  
September 16, 2229  
  
She leaned forward, taking my face between her hands as if to prevent my escape, and she kissed me, devouring my lips.  I stepped back and put my fingers over her mouth, harsh at first, but I could never be harsh with her. My touch gently became a caress, sealing her lips.  
  
"I want you, now," she whispered past my fingertips.  
  
One hand gripped her shoulder, fingers still warm from her breath. I lifted the other to cup her head as we kissed. The kiss softened, deepened. Her mouth had been open, and I took advantage, my tongue joining hers in the kiss. Her tongue slid across mine in welcome, and somehow, suddenly, my arms were wrapped tightly around her, crushing her against my body.  
  
I pressed my arousal hard between her hips. I wanted her to know how much I desired her. My long native tunic and the light trousers I wore beneath allowed for more sensation, more of the feel of her body along mine.  
  
It had been to many long days and nights since I held her in my arms.  I wanted her so, needed her so... loved her so. I could not think. I was caught in the chains of passion, and I realized, as her hands slipped beneath the bunched up fabric of my tunic, so was she.  
  
The touch of her hands on my bare skin drove me to madness. I backed her against the wall, and reached for her skirt. Today it was long and flowing, the soft silver folds lifting easily until I brushed her silken thigh.  
  
I touched lace, then skin above the stocking, and I shuddered. I got both hands beneath her skirt as I kissed her, my tongue stroking in imitation of the act I was so desperate for. This was indeed madness.  I retained only the semblance of control as I stroked up and down her thighs where they were bared above the stockings. Then she untied the drawstring of my trousers, closed her hand around my aching flesh, and I lost even that semblance.  
  
With both hands I tore the fragile-seeming garment away that attempted to cover her. She guided me inside her. With one thrust, I seated myself deep, the side of my face pressed against the smooth wall. My hands cupped her ass to hold her tighter. The glories feel of her wet coolness engulfing me told me of my shameful need.  
  
She whispered my name, and touched her lips to the tender spot beneath my right ear.  
  
I captured her mouth in another kiss to prevent her from saying more.  She twined her legs high around my back, hooking her toes between my thighs. I groaned. My hips began to move, quickly finding the rhythm my body required. She met me, thrust for thrust, until she sent her cry into my kiss and her climax demanded my equal response.  
  
Minutes later, when I finally began to catch my breath; her legs slipped slowly down the back of me until her feet reached the floor. Only then did the realization of what I had done truly hit me.  
  
We had made love against a wall, open to the view of anyone who happened to look in our direction. They had made love standing up, fully clothed—or almost—and in a hurry.  
  
I groaned, hiding my face in her neck. I could not bring myself to pull my clothing together, for that would require space between us, space that would allow me to see desire in her eyes.  
  
Her finger trailed through my hair. They felt good. Comforting.  Contented.  I took a deep breath, inhaling her essence.  
  
"Sarek?" she said again.  
  
I took another deep breath and let it sigh out. We would have to speak sometime. Now was as good as any.  
  
"Yes, Amanda?" My words were muffled by her neck.  
  
"Maybe we should return to the reception before T'Pau sends someone to find us."  
  
"That would be a wise course of action." I stepped away from her, her skirt falling into place as I did. I took a moment to retie my drawstrings and smooth the tunic down over my trousers, aware of her eyes watching me.  
  
She reached down to pick up her torn undergarment from the floor. My passion stirred as I watched her, desire lifting its head again, but I could deny it now.  
  
Her gaze caught mine and held it. "We can't."  
  
I shrugged in disappointment.  
  
She stepped toward me, and I backed away. Knowing what she did not wear beneath her skirt made it imperative that I keep my distance.  
  
She took another step.  
  
I sent a significant glance downward. "Please, do not come closer."  
  
She bit her lower lip to still its quivering. To stop from laughing. I heard her through the bond. *I affect him this much? Wait until tonight, he may never leave our bedroom.*  
  
"I love you, Sarek," she said as she blew me a kiss. Then she turned to leave and headed in the direction of the restroom.  
  
"I cherish thee, Amanda," was the reply whispered from my lips as I headed in the opposite direction to rejoin the reception.


End file.
